Don't Call Me Poor: A Mother Grieves and Grows as Her Teenage Son Courageously Fights Cancer

DON’T CALL

ME POOR

A Mother Grieves and Grows as her

Teenage Son Courageously Fights Cancer

EVADENE STRANSKE

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© Copyright 2012 Evadene Stranske.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

Front cover photo taken 1/20/1971 by staff photographer Mel Scheiltz of the Rocky Mountain News owned by Scripps Media, Inc. Used by permission.

Scripture passages quoted throughout this book are taken from the King James Version unless otherwise noted.

Scripture quotations marked (NIV) are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com The NIV and New International Version are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™

isbn: 978-1-4669-4176-2 (sc)

isbn: 978-1-4669-4177-9 (hc)

isbn: 978-1-4669-4175-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012910165

Trafford rev. 08/08/2012

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Contents

Preface

1. The Year We Burned The Candle

2. It’s A Boy

3. Snapshots Of Darryl’s

Preschool Years In Africa

4. Transition To America

5. Campus Life In Colorado

6. A Paper Boy In Lakewood

7. The New Year Begins With Enveloping Gloom

8. A Disciplined Life Finds

Strength In God

9. New Medications Provide Hope

10. Rocky Mountain News Story Generates Phone And Mail Storm

11. Back To School

12. Family Challenges Persist

13. Beckoned By A Graduation

We Vacation In California

14. Increasing Pressure

At Home In Colorado

15. I’d Rather Be With Jesus

16. Don’t Call Me Poor!

17. A Continuing Legacy He

Being Dead Yet Speaketh

18. Ongoing Struggles Provide Lessons In God’s Sovereignty

I. How do I make life’s most important decision to

become a Christian?

II. Rocky Mountain News Article, January 24, 1971

III. Western Witness Article, September, 1972

IV. The Effects of a Terminal Illness and Death of a Child on His Siblings

End Notes

Bibliography

About The Author

For

The Committed Children

God Entrusted to Us

Charlotte Holcomb, Ray, Tim

Faith Hintz, Susan Carlson

and

Our Sixteen Wonderful Grandchildren

Jeanette (Cook), Dan, Doug, Phil Holcomb

Jon, Clarissa (Fugazzotto) Stranske

Tim, Gail (Hampsmire), Sarah Stranske

Tom, Steve, Marissa, Andrew, Christopher Hintz

Josiah, David Carlson

and

Our Miracle Great Grandchildren

Annika, Zachariah, Shereena, Ezekiel, Daniel Cook

Talia Holcomb

Micah, Lucy Holcomb

Maiya Holcomb

Preface

God challenged our lives, and the life of each member of our family, through the incredible events surrounding the life-struggle of our son, Darryl, as he was diagnosed with cancer. As we have periodically shared the battles, the lessons learned, and the stimulating challenge to a vast number of people through his lengthy illness, we have repeatedly been encouraged to write his story for others to read. Remembering many difficult lessons learned and God’s gracious dealing with her—and with our whole family—during this heart-breaking time, Evadene felt compelled to share her story—Darryl’s story, our family’s story—believing that it might help and encourage others who struggle in similar circumstances. We also felt that this story needed to be written to provide our own family a record that would assist us in remembering how God worked in all of our lives through the difficult months of Darryl’s illness.

Fortunately, she did not have to reconstruct this story from memory. Whether out of the country or in some other setting that removed us from other family members, she has always done an exceptional job of communicating, in detail, the things that were going on in our lives. Her Mother in particular, but also some of our children and other family members, carefully preserved the numerous letters that Evadene wrote throughout the years. These letters, dozens of them, were later returned to her. She saved all of them, along with the hundreds of letters received from all over the country, and even the world, as the media and individuals joined in sharing Darryl’s story. That has provided a full and accurate source of information for her as she began to carefully record the history of this committed son, Darryl, along with the impact that his life has had on our family and others far beyond our family circle.

As I have had the privilege of assisting Evadene by doing some of the editing work on this overview of Darryl’s life, I have been challenged anew by the commitment of this son that God brought into our family. Darryl began life as a strong-willed youngster and was certainly not perfect, but he provides an example of what God can and will do with a life that is yielded to Him. God saw fit to allow Darryl to suffer but, also, to triumph greatly in that suffering. And in that process God used him to eternally challenge each one in our family, as well as a vast host of other people.

Evadene is especially grateful to our daughter Susan for hours spent in final preparation of this manuscript for publication. Without her help, it may not have reached completion.

May this record of Darryl’s victorious response to suffering energize many others to make a whole-hearted commitment to our great and loving God. It is our prayer that, as God has been glorified through Darryl, He may be glorified in each of our lives as we serve Him during the continuing days that He gives us on this earth.

We pray, too, that Evadene’s honest sharing of her feelings, her struggles, and the impact of all of this on our family along with the way in which God met our needs during these difficult years will be a help and an encouragement to many others as they read this account.

Harvey Stranske

Chapter 1

The Year We Burned The Candle

Colorful wax trickled down the knobby sides of the candle in our dimly lit dining room. That previously unlit white Christmas tree candle with embedded multicolored balls had been our Christmas dinner table centerpiece for several years but, for this occasion, I decided to light it. Something compelled me to change tradition by striking a match to our treasured possession.

Today we celebrated. It was Christmas Eve—the day our family traditionally remembered Christmas. But more importantly, Darryl, our thirteen-year-old son had been released from the hospital. After six months of examining and probing, doctors felt confident that they had finally discovered the reason for the periodic pain in his neck. They removed his sub-maxillary salivary gland, generating hope for Darryl’s full recovery. No doubt, he would soon be back to his usual energetic self. With relief, we brought Darryl home from the hospital the morning of December 24. He had a huge bandage on his neck covering the incision from surgery completed three days earlier. Although he couldn’t move his head very fast, he appeared to be on the mend.

Darryl had purchased Christmas gifts early with money earned on his paper route. In spite of his long illness and time spent in the hospital, he was ready. His evident eagerness rippled through the family as we enjoyed this rare occasion of having our whole family together. Charlotte, Ray and Tim, our older children, had driven home from Biola College in California; Darryl’s younger sisters, Faith and Susan, were on vacation from elementary school. Following family tradition, we sat down to an elegant Christmas Eve dinner, each one wearing something red or green to make the occasion more festive. I put the ornate Christmas candle in its usual place, but this year we watched the candle burn as we ate our meal. As the flame reached the first colored balls, streams of mixed colors slithered down the tree, unlocking the beauty hidden inside.

Family photo by our Christmas Tree 1970.

Back row: Charlotte, Evadene, Harvey, Susan, Ray, Tim (holding Snowball); Front row: Faith, Darryl

We chatted, sharing experiences of recent months—our conversation enhanced by the beauty of that changing candle producing a striking display before us. After dinner, everyone joined in the clean-up process before gathering around our fragrant Christmas tree. Before any gifts were opened, we made it a practice to remember the real reason for the season by reading Luke 2—that awesome story about the birth of Jesus; and we took time to thank God for His great gift.

Darryl entered into this time of remembrance with reverence, but when we completed reading we again noted his exuberance. He couldn’t wait. He didn’t care about what he might receive. He eagerly looked forward to sharing the things he had lovingly purchased to give. He gave his youngest sister, Susan, a toy Easy Bake oven that really baked small cakes and brownies. Faith, four years older than Susan, received a tiny toy sewing machine that actually sewed. Together with his older brother Ray, Darryl gave Dad a power keyhole saw. I received a lovely lace tablecloth.

Darryl looks on as I open the lace tablecloth he had purchased for me

To watch Darryl’s elation as each of us opened his gifts gave me a feeling of intense fulfillment. What a privilege to see a child mature from the gimme stage to the I want to give you stage. He is going to be some man when he grows up, I mused quietly to myself.

Christmas Day brought more joyous merriment. We shared a scrumptious turkey dinner, savoring animated conversation after months of separation. What precious time we shared together. But, as the week continued, dark clouds broke into our lives. Darryl approached me one evening to reveal red blotches erupting on his body. He then added that many of his glands seemed to be swollen. Whatever could this new turn of events mean, I wondered.

I quickly called Dr. Dragel, the surgeon who had operated on Darryl. I explained Darryl’s symptoms and he told me to contact our family doctor. I made an appointment with Dr. Kurtz for late afternoon on the following day. Our older children planned to leave for California after lunch that day and I didn’t want to miss any time with them.

The morning bustled with activity as three college kids prepared to leave. Ray even put some finishing touches on a term paper due on the day he returned to school. Since they planned to depart around one o’clock, we traded our usual evening dinner with a big meal at noon to provide an added boost for their travels. I wanted them to leave with full stomachs since I often felt concerned about their eating; college expenses kept them on a tight budget. As they prepared to leave after dinner, the boys discovered a car problem. They had to make repairs before they could go and were still working on the car when I took Darryl to the doctor at 3:30. Since they intended to be gone when we returned, we said our good byes as Darryl and I left.

Dr. Kurtz greeted me and then took Darryl into the examining room alone. As the minutes ticked on, growing concern gripped me. What’s taking so long? What’s wrong? Finally, Darryl returned and Dr. Kurtz asked to talk to me alone. My fears rapidly increased and seemed to confirm my suspicions. There must be something drastically wrong. Offering me a chair, Dr. Kurtz with whom we had a trusting relationship, looked into my face and then to the floor as if to gain time for what he had to tell me. At last, he shared what he had found.

Mrs. Stranske, he began, pausing, I examined Darryl with great care. I found that he is abnormally large for his age and the point of development he is at sexually. I am quite sure that he has some type of lymphoma. Because of the New Years holiday followed by the weekend, it would do no good to put him in the hospital now. Nothing in the way of diagnostic testing is done in the hospital over a weekend like this. So we will admit him to Porter Hospital on Monday morning to verify what is happening. I hope that tests will prove me wrong, but I don’t think they will. At this point, please don’t tell Darryl what I have told you. We want to have a definitive diagnosis first.

Thoughts crashed through my mind a million miles a minute. Lymphoma! Since medical things have always interested me, I knew what that meant. Lymphoma is cancer of the lymph system. Why did this shocking news have to break into the end of this idyllic Christmas? Why did such a horrible sentence have to enter into our lives at all—ever! Maybe Dr. Kurtz was wrong. Hadn’t he suggested this only as a possibility? Maybe, just maybe, he was mistaken. Maybe, it only looked like lymphoma. Even that ray of hope didn’t remove the lump from my throat or take away the feeling that I’d been hit with a ton of bricks.

Thank you, Dr. Kurtz, I said and walked into the waiting room where Darryl sat looking at a magazine. Okay Honey, let’s go, I said as I started toward the car. Our appointment had been late and darkness descends early on Denver in December. Thankful for that early darkness, I felt it might help me hide my feelings from Darryl.

He waited until we were in the car and driving home before Darryl questioned, Mom, why did Dr. Kurtz want to talk to you alone?

Now my thoughts began racing again. Why hadn’t I anticipated this question? I scolded myself. We had always been open and above-board in our family, so how could I answer such a question when the doctor had given specific instructions that I shouldn’t tell Darryl what he had told me? Guardedly I replied, Well Darryl, he just wanted to talk to me about your physical condition.

What did he say? Darryl pumped.

He said that he is not sure what is wrong, but he wants to put you in the hospital again on Monday for more tests.

But why couldn’t I be there? It was about me, Darryl prodded, increasing the pressure.

Darryl, I replied, Sometimes a doctor wants to talk to a mother alone. This was one of those times, so let’s leave it at that. Darryl remained very quiet the rest of the way home. With his sharp mind working overtime, he recognized that something was radically wrong.

To my total surprise, I found our college kids still at home when we arrived. The boys had finally worked through the problem with the car and scrambled to finish their repairs as we drove into the driveway. This half-day delay put added pressure on them to leave quickly in order to get back to California in time to resume responsibilities at school.

I pulled Charlotte into the bedroom with me as soon as we got into the house and told her what Dr. Kurtz had said. A look of deep pain spread across her face. As a graduate nurse, she understood the implications of lymphoma. Without hesitation she made her way into the garage to share the sad news with her brothers. I drew my husband, Harvey, aside and shared the negative report with him. We couldn’t cry. We had to keep up a front before Darryl and the two younger girls. Each of us found it difficult to dam up those feelings and pretend that everything was fine. Both our smiles and our conversation became wooden.

We had soup for a quick supper. This pleased me since I didn’t feel up to making or eating our normal dinner meal. My stomach felt full of rocks. The hot soup soothed my aching mind and body.

Before we left the table, we did something we had not done before. It seemed so appropriate right then. We joined hands and together sang the old hymn, Blest Be the Tie that Binds:

Blest be the tie that binds

Our hearts in Christian love!

The fellowship of kindred minds

Is like to that above.

Before our Father’s throne

We pour our ardent prayers;

Our fears, our hope, our aims are one,

Our comforts and our cares.

We share our mutual woes,

Our mutual burdens bear;

And often for each other flows

The sympathizing tear.

When we asunder part

It gives us inward pain;

But we shall still be joined in heart,

And hope to meet again.

The pathos of that moment left us with deep emotional feelings; tears trickled down our faces. That experience remains etched on my mind as if inscribed with indelible ink. After singing those words a settled peace came over me. I reflected on the closeness of our family and the inner strength that brought. Beyond the support drawn from a loving family, that peace involved more than human relationships. Our Father in Heaven had taken care of us in the past, and I knew we could trust Him now. As the song instructs, we needed to pour out our prayers before our Father’s throne and believe God’s promises to us. We needed to rest on those eternal truths.

My thoughts flashed back to our Christmas Eve dinner. I pondered my decision to burn the candle.

Char observes the beauty created by the flame in our Christmas Tree Candle

The inner beauty of our candle had not been visible apart from the destructive flame. Was there some special meaning in this? Was this an omen of coming events? Was Darryl’s life going to melt away in the same way the candle had begun to dissolve? Would I have the privilege of seeing this fine son grow to manhood as I had anticipated a few short days ago? Then I thought of that momentous time when Darryl came into this world. God gave Darryl to us as a special gift. He had answered prayer and worked miraculous healing in my body that allowed Darryl to come into being. Wouldn’t He preserve the gift He had given to us?

Chapter 2

It’s A Boy

O h, it’s so good to hear a baby cry! You say it’s a boy? That’s just what I wanted, I said as everyone in the delivery room scurried around to take care of this newborn and his mother. I already had three